Episode 4: Fear Itself
by Castle Season 9
Summary: With a serial killer on the loose, the investigation uncovers a lead that will put some of the team in grave danger, and forces Castle to confront his deepest fears. Season 9, episode 4.
1. Chapter 1

**Fear Itself**

Season 9, episode 4.

Written by whatifellinlovewith

 _This is a work of fiction by writers with no professional connection to ABC network's Castle. Recognizable characters are the property of Andrew Marlowe and ABC. Names, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental._

* * *

Lora jerked awake, eyes wide and wrists flexing against the restraints, feet pressing hard against the floor as she tugged at the ties at her ankles. Fear, _panic_. Perfection.

Questions filled the air, stuttered and shaky and wonderful. _What do you want?_ and _Where am I?_ and _Who are you_? bleeding together through gasped, panting breaths. Her eyes darted around the room, traced the walls, the floor, rows of tiles and the rim of the basin sitting before her.

Water rippled at the surface. Fear flashed in her eyes.

A hand wrapped tightly around locks of her hair. She barely managed to hold her breath the first time - struggled and jerked and tried not to breathe under the pressure of the water. Fingers dug into the rope binding her wrists together, toes curling against the tile for seconds, _long_ seconds. Maybe a minute.

And she gasped when she came back up. Tried to catch a breath that wouldn't come. Swallowing gulps of air between stuttered words, broken requests, her begging lost in the rise and fall of her chest, bleeding with the panic in her eyes.

Memories came, went. Anger welled. Her head was shoved beneath the water again.

And again. And again. And again.

She struggled until she couldn't anymore, until the panic stole her strength and her eyes no longer opened and she didn't ask any more questions, forgot to beg for her freedom.

It wouldn't have helped.

Her attacker's hand still locked in her hair, her strength gone, she sank beneath the water again, forgetting to hold her breath, to fight, to live.

Lora died, underwater and scared, and it was amazing.

The restraints were cut from her wrists, from her ankles. Her body, soaking wet and limp, was dragged to the floor, along the tiles to the door, and into a car. She was lighter, the easiest to carry, to disguise. A parked car, a struggle with dead weight, a walk laced with determination.

Her limp feet dragged across the ground, arms locked around her dead body, a masked face pressed against wet locks of her hair as she was carried through the shadows. Obscured by the evening, the darkness, the city.

She was dropped into a fountain, and the killer drifted into the crowd, lost in the night.

* * *

Dinner had been wonderful, the evening freeing Kate from the clutches of morning sickness and allowing her to enjoy time with her friends. Ryan and Lanie were in the kitchen, Castle and Jenny's conversation resumed, and she stood, turned towards the living room to find the source of excited squealing.

Esposito was sitting on the couch, Sarah Grace sitting next to him, squirming away from her _Uncle Javi_ 's incessant tickling as Nicholas watched, bouncing with beautiful baby laughter at his sister.

It stilled when Kate walked in, dropped onto the empty couch cushion by Sarah Grace's head, the young girl breathing "thank you"s for the rescue from Espo, She watched Sarah Grace bounce up from the couch, run to get whatever book she thought _Uncle Javi_ needed to see, leaving him with the baby in his arms, a smile on his face.

"You're great with them," she told him. "Definitely _Uncle Javi_."

He just glanced at her and offered a smile, before Nicholas stole his attention again, had Esposito, of all people, making silly faces in an attempt to keep the baby happy and laughing.

"Who would have thought," she continued, "all those years ago, that you, Esposito, would be such a great uncle?"

He shrugged at that, turning back towards her as Nicholas amused himself with tugging at his uncle's ear. His smile returned as Sarah Grace came running back into the room, her book clutched between her hands. She crawled back onto the couch, set the book on Kate's lap.

"You're great with them, too," said Espo. "A great _auntie Katie_. Who would've thought?"

She opened her mouth, ready to argue her point when it dawned on her that the dining room had fallen silent, Castle and Jenny watching the exchange with smiles on their faces, her husband's gaze drifting across where Sarah Grace had nestled her small body against Kate's side.

"You really are, Kate," said Jenny, her eyes dancing with humor as she continued. "So, are you guys planning on having one, some day?"

Kate tried to tamp down the burn of her cheeks, eyes drifting to Castle to catch his smile and mirror it with her own.

A purposefully vague response almost came, but was cut off by the vibrating of her phone in her pocket. She smiled her apology, brought the device to her ear to answer the call.

"Beckett."

* * *

The victim was perched against the edge of a fountain, arms draped across the edges, neck limp and head fallen back. Lanie didn't bother moving her, not yet, opting to simply do what work she could with the body still in its position as CSU milled around the scene.

Kate had sent Ryan and Espo to speak with the person who had called it in and other witnesses who had been standing nearby at the time. Uniforms were already off to canvas local businesses for possible information and security tapes. Castle stood by her side, his eyes locked on her face, smile lingering and words unspoken until Lanie called them over.

"What do we have?" asked Kate.

Lanie motioned to the victim. "An ID," she answered, continuing when Castle muttered about how _that was fast_. "Vic's name is Lora Burton. Her prints were in the system. She was arrested last week on a robbery charge."

Kate nodded. "Do you think it's related?"

"Could be," said Lanie. "Cause of death is drowning, looks like it could have been torture to me, but–"

"Torture?"

"Yes, Castle," answered Kate, rolling her eyes. "Why?"

He shrugged. "Could be the mob. She crossed them, robbed the wrong place, they tried to get information from her and killed her to keep her quiet."

"The mob doesn't pose dead bodies in fountains."

Lanie motioned to the victim once more, her gloved hand curling around Lora's wrist and twisting it so they could see what was there. Ligature marks and fingerprints. "The mob also doesn't leave _obvious_ prints on their victims."

Castle deflated at that, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Fine, not the mob then," he conceded. "But whoever did it dumped the body here for a reason."

"Any idea what that may be?"

His hand flew into the air, lips parting with mock excitement and Kate was rolling her eyes before he said a word, knew her husband too well not to see his response coming.

"No idea."

"That's what I thought," she said, turning back to watch Lanie get help in finally hauling the body from the water.

* * *

He always hated seeing the way her shoulders tensed the moment the victim's family walked onto the floor, the flash of memories in her eyes of having been that person, awaiting some of the worst news of her life. From between the blinds in her office, they watched a uniform escort Lora's parents to the break room.

From right next to her, he watched Kate square her shoulders before turning towards her door, inviting him to follow with a soft smile thrown over her shoulder.

When they stepped into the break room, Mr. and Mrs. Burton were already sitting on the couch, nestled close together, their faces already creased with worry, anticipation of bad news yet to come.

Beckett forced a smile as she introduced herself, a feeble attempt at comfort, as she sat down across from Mr. and Mrs. Burton. He stood by her side, watching as she leaned forward, rested her elbows on her knees.

"I'm sorry to have to call you guys in so late," she told them, "especially under such circumstances." She paused, watching as Mrs. Burton pressed herself against her husband, Mr. Burton nodding his head in solemn acceptance of the inevitability of Kate's news. "You're Lora's parents?"

Mr. Burton nodded. "Please, Captain, just…"

Beckett nodded. "I'm so sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Burton, but your daughter was found dead this evening."

The quiet, interrupted by the cries of grieving parents that cleaved at his heart, had him turning to see Kate staring at her hands, dipping her head farther to catch a glance at the still-flat plane of her stomach before looking back up.

She waited, knew too well the need to balance police work with sympathy, empathy. She waited until Mrs. Burton was wiping at her tears and Mr. Burton was once again nodding for Kate to continue.

"In order to find out who did this, Mr. and Mrs. Burton, we need more insight into your daughter's life," she says. "Do you know of anyone who may have wanted to hurt Lora?"

Mrs. Burton whimpered, shaking her head against her husband's shoulder. But Mr. Burton tensed, his jaw clenched as he nodded.

"Her boyfriend. It wasn't a…healthy relationship. He was hurting her," he said, tense, words cracking. "I should have tried harder to get her to see how bad he was for her."

Kate smiled again, another half-hearted attempt at comfort he knew she assumed wouldn't work. "I'm sure you did your best by your daughter, Mr. Burton," she said, paused. "Can I have her boyfriend's name?"

"Garrett," said Mr. Burton. "Garrett Brewer."

* * *

"Got anything?" she asked, stepping from her office into the bullpen as Ryan slapped the file of information they'd gathered on Brewer onto his desk. He gathered it between his hands, reaching over to hand it to her as Esposito finished setting up their mostly-bare murder board with a picture of their victim, an empty timeline and another picture, that one of their best suspect,

"Garrett Brewer's been picked up on multiple drug charges, was a suspect in a robbery and accused of sexual assault by his ex-girlfriend," says Ryan, scowling at the surface of his desk when she glanced over the edge of the file to look at him. "Between that and the parents saying he was abusing the vic, murder wouldn't be that far of a stretch."

She nodded, closed the file, and reached forward to set it on the corner of Ryan's desk before turning towards Castle, catching the oh so predictable frown that drew at his features.

"Not entertaining enough for you?" she asked.

He shrugged. "It's not that," he said. "It's just…why would he drown her? That doesn't sound like a crime of passion."

She mirrored his shrug with her own, turning to face him. "Maybe it wasn't," she said. "If he was abusing her–"

"Most abusive relationships end with a beating gone too far," he reminded her, and she nodded her reluctant agreement. " _Not_ with a pre-meditated drowning."

"So, you don't think it was the boyfriend?" she asked.

He shrugged. "It might have been," he relented. "He _is_ violent. And her parents did say that Brewer didn't appreciate it when Lora botched a job." He paused, and she watched the thoughts rushing through his head, the scenarios playing out until he decided on one he deemed plausible. "She probably knew that, managed to avoid him since her arrest."

"But he found out," she picked up. "And since they lived together, she couldn't avoid him forever."

He nodded. "As usual, he was upset over a botched job, decided to _punish_ her."

"Which is where the ligature marks came from," she continued the scenario, nodding her head at the way it played out, the pieces falling into place. "She washed off afterwards, but he still hadn't gotten his anger out."

"One thing led to another and…"

He didn't need to finish, had her nodding her head before he could, and Ryan bounced from his seat, reaching back to swipe his jacket off the back of his chair.

"You guys go pick him up," she told Ryan. "I want to talk to Garrett Brewer."

"You got it," said Ryan, turning to leave, stopping only when Espo didn't follow, but rather slammed his phone onto its receiver, drawing the attention of the whole precinct with his booming voice telling Ryan to stop.

She turned towards him, too, arms crossed tightly over her chest until she saw the look on his face, his notepad still perched between his fingers.

"We got a problem, boss," said Espo. "That print found on the vic's wrists? There was a match in the system. Not an ID, but the print was ran for another case, just last week." He paused. "Another homicide."

"You don't think…"

Her heart sank at Ryan's half-whispered words, and she heard Castle's breath catch in his throat. "No," she insisted, her voice stronger than she felt. "A matching print doesn't mean that. All it means is that the killer has done this before. I'll get the case file from the other case, but until we know more, we treat it like any other homicide."


	2. Chapter 2

Despite her words, there was a lump in the pit of Beckett's stomach, and she feared the worst. She feared that there was a serial killer loose in her city. The MO was too specific to be a random coincidence, and the fact that the murders had occurred just a week apart raised the hairs on the back of her neck. But until she reviewed the previous kill and investigated the victims, she wouldn't know.

The bullpen had overheard the exchange between her and the boys, however, and the air was brimming with the sound of speculation. Regardless of whether or not it was a serial killer, there were two victims who'd been killed, potentially by the same person, so they needed to solve it. Fast.

"Okay everyone, listen up," she said, teams of detective and uniforms turning at the sound of her voice, memories of Montgomery setting up the precinct in a too-similar way flitting through her mind. "As you all know, we have two murders that may have been committed by the same person, but I don't want this to affect your ability to do your jobs."

She paused, turned to let her gaze drift across Ryan and Esposito, Castle leaning against the wall near her office door, fear shining in his eyes. He was afraid it was serial, as well.

It hadn't ended well last time this happened. They would make sure this time was different.

"I understand that this can be stressful," she told everyone. "But for now, you will all still be handling individual cases. If that needs to change, I'll let you know."

They nodded, and she waited until she was no longer the center of attention before turning towards the elevator, its doors sliding open to reveal a pair of uniforms, Garrett Brewer sandwiched between them.

"Ryan, Esposito," she called to them, "you guys get as much as you can out of Brewer. I need to get the other file from the 54th."

The boys nodded, turning towards where a uniform had escorted Brewer to the break room before walking in that direction, perfectly in step, ready to solve this case.

Catch a potential serial killer. Get it over with. Leave it behind them the way they hadn't been permitted to last time.

Her shoulders sagged, head falling forward as she sighed, and Castle reached to wrap an arm around her waist.

"You okay?" he breathed.

She nodded. "I will be, as soon as we catch whoever did this."

* * *

Brewer seemed completely uninterested when Ryan followed Esposito into interrogation, drawing his jacket tighter around his body before sitting in a chair. Esposito planted a chair on Brewer's opposite side before sitting down.

Ryan opened his mouth to speak, but Brewer beat him to it.

"She dead?" he asked, paused to glance around as though realizing the alarm bells set off by his disinterest. "Lora, is she dead?"

Esposito leaned forward, elbows pressed against his thighs, hand laced together between his knees. "She is," he told Brewer. "She was found, murdered, earlier tonight. How did you know?"

Brewer shrugged. "This is the homicide floor, and I'm in interrogation," he said. "Lora's the only person in my life whose murder I would be informed of."

"You sure that's how you know?"

Brewer jerked upwards in his seat at that, eyes going wide, hands landing heavily on his knees. "You think I killed her?" he asked. "'Cause I didn't."

Esposito shrugged, leaning back in his seat as Ryan leaned forward instead, switching roles. Brewer's gaze flitted from one detective to the other, his hands tightening around his knees,

"Do you know Antonio Chavez?" asked Ryan.

"Never heard of him," answered Brewer, fingers drumming against his kneecap, eyes still darting between the two detectives. "Why?"

Ryan ignored him, drawing a notepad and pen from his jacket and making a show of scribbling on it. "Do you know if Lora knew an Antonio Chavez?"

"She didn't," answered Brewer.

"You sound very sure of yourself," piped up Esposito, his glare pointed, sharp with insinuation.

Brewer simply shrugged, disgust welling in Ryan's chest at the blatant indifference.

"Do you know of anyone who wanted to hurt Lora?" asked Ryan, glancing back at his notepad when Brewer failed to look at him.

He shrugged, again.

Esposito leaned forward once more, gaze locked with Brewer's, a challenge. "Do you know _anything_ about your girlfriend, Garrett?"

The man in question barked out a laugh. "I know _everything_ about her," he promised, voice steady with that same indifference. "Including where she was before she went missing."

"Where?"

"Casing out a place." He paused, grinned at the surprised look on Ryan's face. "What? She's dead. It's not like it matters that she was a thief now."

Ryan swallowed, looked away, forced himself to remember that the chances of this man being their killer were so very slim.

How could he forget? They might be dealing with a _serial_ killer.

"Where was this place?" asked Ryan.

Brewer's smile widened. "Give me a piece of paper and I'll write down the address," he promised.

So Ryan handed over his notepad.

* * *

Beckett was gentle and quiet from the moment a uniform escorted the wife of the first victim, Antonio Chavez, to her office door, her earlier determination faded to sympathy. Castle watched her lead Kristina Chavez to the couch in her office, settling on the cushion opposite the grieving widow.

"I'm so sorry to ask you back here, Mrs. Chavez," said Kate, voice even and laced with sympathy. "I know you've already answered many questions, but we have a few more."

Mrs. Chavez nodded. "Anything I can do to help find the man who killed my husband," she whispered, a slight Hispanic accent clipping her words.

"We appreciate your cooperation," said Beckett. "Now, I know you already told Detective Harding when the investigation began, but I just want to make sure. Did you know where Antonio was going the night he died?"

"Not exactly. I knew...he was going to buy...drugs, but he never told me where," answered Mrs. Chavez, punctuating the sentence with a whimper. "Antonio always kept that part of his life a secret from me."

He watched Beckett nod, the forced quirk of her lip. "I'm sure he was just trying to keep you safe and happy." She paused, allowed Mrs. Chavez a moment to blink away the tears shining in her eyes. "Do you know if your husband knew a Lora Burton?"

"Not that I know of," said Mrs. Chavez, shaking her head. "Why? Do you think she killed him?"

Kate swallowed thickly. "No," she promised. "We actually suspect that they were killed by the same person."

Mrs. Chavez's eyes went wide, hands scrambling to grasp at the couch. "The same person?" she breathed. "Like a...serial killer?"

And then she broke down crying.

* * *

"Yo, Beckett."

Castle turned away from the closed elevator doors, having just escorted Mrs. Chavez from the floor, to see Kate walking over to the murder board. Esposito slapped something on it, secured the page there with a magnet before stepping away to allow all to see the grainy traffic image.

"Traffic cam footage confirms Lora's location before she was taken," he continued. "And Brewer's alibi is solid."

Beckett shrugged. "I figured he wasn't our guy. Did he know Chavez?"

Esposito shook his head. "Never heard of him. You?"

She returned the gesture, paused as she turned to face the murder board once again. "So far our only link is their recent arrests." Another pause. "I spoke with the arresting officers. Both victims had a psych eval when they were arrested."

"Do you know what they said?" asked Ryan. "And why they had the evals?"

"Not yet," answered Kate. "I'm still waiting for them to be sent over, but in the meantime-"

"You want us to go over and talk to the doc?"

She nodded.

Ryan and Esposito were brushing past Castle, towards the elevator, before he could think of something to say.

* * *

Esposito flashed his badge at the desk clerk before explaining the reason for their visit. He told the woman behind the counter the names of their victims and what they needed, and both he and Ryan watched her nod as she promised that the files would be drawn and doctors paged immediately.

It was only after she had turned away that Esposito noticed his partner staring down one of the halls that led to numerous doctors' offices.

"You okay, bro?" he asked.

Ryan nodded, shoved his hands into his pockets as he turned towards Esposito. "Yeah," he breathed. "It's just been a while since I've been here, you know?"

Espo nodded.

"Since Tyson and Nieman took Beckett," added Ryan, almost as an afterthought.

Esposito nodded again, pretended not to see the pain etched across his friend's features, not to know how difficult his last visit had been.

They'd all seen a shrink after their last encounter with Tyson, had needed to be cleared for duty once more. Esposito's own visit had been fairly easy, the damage done by Tyson and Nieman almost slight compared to Castle, Beckett, and Ryan.

He didn't know the details of Castle and Beckett's struggles. They'd never really spoken of that day except for brief exchanges ensuring the other was okay. But Ryan-

Ryan had gotten so caught up in his guilt. Sometimes, Esposito thought his partner still suffered under the weight of it.

"This won't end up like Tyson," he promised. "We're going to catch this son of a bitch before he can hurt anyone else, okay?"

Ryan blinked away the haze in his eyes, offered a shaky smile, but nodded all the same.

"Okay."

* * *

Kate found Castle standing before the murder board, hands shoved into his pockets and gaze locked on the grainy traffic image of Lora Burton. The bullpen was bustling with officers when she stepped from her office to stand next to her husband, but she didn't hesitate to reach for his elbow and draw him from his trance.

"Come on, babe," she whispered.

He followed her back to her office, lingering in the center of the room as she closed the door and drew the blinds. And then she only waited a second before stepping towards him. Her arms looped around his waist, locking at the base of his spine as she pressed her head against his chest.

Castle's arms closed around her, too. He pressed his nose against the top of her head, sucked in a steadying breath, and his grip around her tightened.

"I can't stop thinking about how you briefed the precinct," he confessed, words muffled in her hair. "You sounded so much like Montgomery with…"

With Tyson. She couldn't blame him; it felt the same, too.

"This time will end differently," she told him, hoping her voice didn't crack with uncertainty.

He swallowed, his chest heaving with his next breath, next words. "I have this dread in the pit of my stomach. It doesn't feel like a coincidence, it has to be the same killer. We can't find a connection between the vics besides the psych evals. You don't think…" His words trailed off, and Kate just tightened her arms around his waist.

The phone rang before she could offer her halfhearted answer.

* * *

"Detectives?"

Ryan's head jerked up at the greeting, Esposito turning away from the spot on the wall he'd been staring at.

"Yeah?"

The secretary smiled, tilting her head in direction of one of the halls. "The doc-"

Ryan's phone rang right then, and he winced, mumbling his apology as he reached for the device.

"Ryan," he answered.

"Hey," said Beckett's voice in his ear. "We found another link between the victims."

From beside him, Espo nudged his shoulder, motioned with a jerk of his head to where a single doctor stood in the hallway.

"The psych evals were done by-" continued Beckett.

"The same person," he finished for her, swallowing thickly before speaking again. "I know."


	3. Chapter 3

Esposito slammed the door closed behind him upon entering the interrogation room. Ryan was only sliding into his seat, setting their file of evidence on the table before him, when Esposito turned into the room.

The shrink, Dr. Calvin McCormick, watched their every move, eyeing Esposito even after the detective had slid into his seat. Unaware that his prints were in system, were matched to not one murder victim, but two, and both detectives before him were determined to take him down.

"Is all this really necessary?" asked the doctor, motioning to the bare walls of the interrogation room, the two-way mirror opposite him.

"Yes, it is."

Dr. McCormick sighed, sinking into the metal chair. "Okay, then," he relented.

Neither detective spoke for a long moment after that. Ryan made a show of rifling through the images in the file. He chose two pictures, both of Lora Burton—one her DMV photo, the other one having been taken at the crime scene. He held them both out to Esposito, letting his partner choose which one to show the doctor.

Esposito chose the crime scene photo, and Ryan slid it across the table.

"Do you know this woman?"

Dr. McCormick frowned, glancing at the image for only a second before looking back up. "I do," he answered. "That's Lora Burton. I just drew her file."

"How do you know her?" asked Esposito.

Dr. McCormick sighed, exasperated. "She was arrested on robbery charges last week," he told them. "I did her psychological evaluation."

"Oh, really?" asked Ryan. He slid a second image across the table, that one a close-up of Lora Burton's wrist. "Because your fingerprints were found on her body."

"I- What?"

Esposito swiped the file from between Ryan's arms, opened it himself. The room stayed silent as he rifled through the pages, Dr. McCormick's stuttered questions having fallen silent.

It only took Esposito a minute to find the picture he had been searching for: one of Antonio Chavez at his crime scene. He handed it to the doctor.

"What about this man? Do you know him?"

Dr. McCormick sighed again. "Yes."

"How?"

"Same way." He paused, continued when Esposito raised his brows in question. "Two weeks ago, he was arrested for possession. I did his psych evaluation too."

Esposito smiled, tapped his finger against the photograph laying on the table between them. "Yeah, well, your prints are on his body, too."

The doctor's breath escaped him as a stutter. "H-how?"

"You tell me."

Dr. McCormick shook his head. "I have no idea," he said. "I haven't seen either of them since their respective psych evaluations. There is no way my fingerprints- I mean, I have an alibi."

"How do _you_ know which day you need an alibi for?" asked Ryan.

"It doesn't matter," said the doctor. "My marriage has been...on the rocks lately. I've spent all my time at the office. The building is full of security cameras."

Ryan nodded. "We'll see."

Silence returned, weighing heavy as Esposito left the room to begin their search for confirmation of the alibi. Dr. McCormick reached for the images laid before him, took the two of Lora and Antonio in his hands.

"The same person killed them, right?" he asked.

"What's it to you?"

Dr. McCormick looked up at him, eyes wide and honest. "I'm a criminal psychologist. If there's one thing I know, it's why people commit crimes. How did they die?"

Ryan and Esposito shared a look, and after a moment, Ryan shrugged and turned back to the doctor. "Chavez was bitten by a snake and poisoned." He paused, watched the doctor's eyes widen. "And Burton was drowned."

"You're sure about that?" asked McCormick.

"Positive. Why?"

"I- uh...Lora Burton had aquaphobia, she was terrified of water." A pause, a deep breath. "And Antonio Chavez was terrified of snakes." Another pause.

"Detective Ryan, both victims were killed using their biggest fears."

And silence.

* * *

Esposito was stepping from the tech room just as Ryan finished the interrogation with Dr. McCormick, and Castle was beckoning Beckett from her office for an update on the case. It only took a second for Ryan to note the downward, unhappy tug of his partner's lips, Beckett just a moment to act upon it.

"His alibi checked out?"

Esposito nodded, reaching over to hand Beckett the USB stick he'd had clutched in his fist. "Security cam footage shows McCormick coming and going between his office and the archives all evening, from seven to ten, before staying in his office for the night, only coming out at six the next morning."

"But how?" asked Castle. "His prints are on _both_ bodies."

"And there's another link between McCormick and the vics," added Ryan, everyone turning to him at the words. "Both vics were killed using their biggest fear. And unless there's someone else who knows both vics well-"

"McCormick is the only person who would know," finished Castle.

Ryan nodded. Beckett clutched at the USB stick and swallowed thickly.

"We'll figure it out," she said, but even Ryan could hear the lack of conviction to the words, the fact that she was trying to reassure herself as much as the rest of them. "Castle and I will work on that while we make sure we've exhausted every possible avenue."

"So?"

"So I need you two to go check for leads at Burton's last known location," she told them. "Her and Chavez's criminal activities may have caused them to cross paths and upset the same person."

It was halfhearted, a feeble attempt at moving the case forward, but Ryan nodded, Esposito doing the same.

"You got it, boss."

* * *

The warrant was hidden in the pocket of Esposito's jacket when they arrived at the warehouse, Lora Burton's last known location. Ryan put the car into park as Esposito secured his bulletproof vest, reached for the gun at his hip, adjusted it before grabbing his flashlight instead.

"You ready, bro?"

Ryan nodded, hand settling on the door, and he shoved it open. Esposito followed, reached the warehouse door when his partner was already pounding on it.

There was no response, but they hadn't been expecting one. The building had long since been abandoned, although it was still used by many despite their lack of ownership. Evidence of other crimes was likely hidden behind closed doors, noted Esposito, but he couldn't bring himself to care.

They had a killer to catch, worries to lift, families to make it home to.

Ryan knocked one last time before finally closing his hand around the doorknob, finding it unlocked and shoving it open.

It only took a swipe of his flashlight to bring rows of haphazardly piled boxes into view.

"Drugs?"

"Probably."

They entered the building anyway, stepping into obscurity. The only light coming in was through broken windows, and from the bright bulbs of their flashlights. It traced more rows of boxes, revealed torn cardboard and illegible addresses.

Esposito stepped past them, Ryan on his heels. Footsteps echoed off the walls, as did their voices calling for anyone who might be on the premises. There was no response, not a sound except for the detectives and rustle of papers at the mercy of cool nighttime drafts. And the pounding in his chest, adrenaline overpowering unease and drawing Esposito deeper into the building.

He turned between two rows of boxes, heard Ryan dart down another makeshift hall in the opposite direction. Protests welled in Esposito's chest, but he bit them back. The building was too big for the two of them to cover if they stuck together, and it was bare of any threat if the silence was anything to go by.

So Esposito sneaked a glance over his shoulder, simply to see where his partner was going. That was it, before he turned away.

The beam of his flashlight traced more piles of boxes, their contents a mystery. But nothing else, no evidence of murder, or Lora Burton, or Antonio Chavez, or _anything_ that could lead the to their killer.

He stared ahead for another few steps before turning back once more.

Ryan was no longer in sight.

Dread settled in his gut.

He kept walking.

* * *

Kate tried to shed the day along with her coat, the blouse that clung to her chest, the pants that were growing too tight around her swelling stomach. She always tried to leave the weight of the case at the door, ever since home started bringing far more comfort and joy than work ever could. Ever since-

 _Castle._

He was standing in the kitchen when she stepped from the office, staring at the floor. The coffee pot whirred before him, most likely with the cup of decaf he'd promised upon her complaints of a stressful day sans caffeine, but he paid it no mind.

 _Oh,_ Castle.

It didn't take a second thought for her to know what was weighing on his mind, which memories plagued him and the kitchen floor. He had hesitated outside the door before stepping into the darkness of their home. His gaze had swept the room, traced the walls and lingered on obscure corners, and she'd pretended not to notice.

But…

She stepped up behind him, steps slow, quiet. Her hands landed on his sides, just below the lattice of his ribs, and he jumped at her touch. Her thumbs traced circles over the fabric of his shirt as he relaxed, and then she slipped her arms around his middle, resting her head between his shoulder blades.

"Tyson... or Caleb?" she whispered.

He tensed, shrugged in what she expected was an attempt to disguise it. "Both," he answered. "All of it. I just have a bad feeling about this case and I…" he trailed, paused, hands settling over hers and squeezing gently. "I don't want anything to happen to you."

Her heart cracked, thudded against her ribs as her breath hitched. She swallowed back a sigh and pressed a kiss to his spine before pulling away.

He protested — she ignored it — as she took out a glass and bottle of wine. Promises slipped past her lips, assurances that she didn't care, that he needed to relax. She popped the bottle open, poured him a glass, and turned, hoping her hand wasn't shaking as she held it out to him.

Castle didn't take it, just stared at the swirling dark red liquid, the contrast between it and the floor and-

 _Oh._

She dumped it down the sink, muttering her apologies and suggestions that he have white instead when he stopped her.

"I don't want wine, Kate," he said, the sincerity in his tone stilling her heart and the clumsy movements of her hands. "I just want to make sure you're okay."

Words, any semblance of a response, stayed trapped in her throat. So she did what she could, let his hands close around her hips and draw her towards him. He looped his arms around her waist, held her impossibly close, impossibly tight.

He just wanted to make sure _she_ was okay. She just wanted to ease the tension in his spine, the worry in his chest.

"I'm okay, Rick," she whispered. Her hand closed around his arm, tugged it from around her to put a little distance between them. She threaded her fingers with his, pressed the warmth of his palm against her stomach.

His breath hitched, eyes widened, but he relaxed, sinking against her and adjusting his hand against her abdomen.

"We're all okay," she promised.

And she pushed onto her toes to reassure him once more with the press of her lips to his.

* * *

Beckett stared at her phone in the elevator, waiting for the three dots to indicate an impending response from Esposito. Castle watched her, hand resting on the base of her spine as she waited, waited, wait-

The elevator dinged, doors sliding open and she shoved her phone into her pocket. Castle led her from the elevator, his hand lingering at her back until she turned away, to the first uniform she could find.

"Have you seen Ryan or Esposito?"

The uniform shrugged. "Not since yesterday," he answered, and her heart stopped, Castle's breath hitching in her ear. "Sorry, Captain."

She shook off the apology, the clicks of her heels too loud as she stalked towards her office. Castle followed, closed the door behind them both as she fumbled with her phone, dialed Jenny's number.

Six unanswered text messages. No connection since last night. A sketchy last known location.

No. No. _No._

"Kate?" came Jenny's voice, too loud in her ear.

"Jenny, hi," she breathed, the words unsteady, weak. "Is Kevin there?"

"No," came the answer. "He texted last night that he was stuck at the…" she trailed off, failed to finish as Kate interrupted.

" _Dammit._ "

She didn't answer. Couldn't. Just stared at Castle staring back at her and listened to Jenny's worried voice in her ear.

McCormick had been in holding all night. The boys went missing-

The boys were _missing._

Her heart sank, stomach churning and she rushed to her desk. She threw up in the trash can, tears already welling in her eyes.

* * *

Ryan woke to darkness, an empty room, deafening silence. He blinked away the haze of fatigue, lifted his head despite the painful crick in his neck.

A click echoed through the room. His body jerked, ached, drew a hiss from his chest.

His wrists were bound to the chair, his ankles the same, and the image of Chavez and Burton's ligature marks came, and went just as quickly.

Another click echoed.

He looked around. Esposito was in a chair just a few feet away, blinking away lingering disorientation. The room around them was in ruins, wires sticking from the walls and planks laid out across the floor, a layer of dust covering it all.

A sign sat on the floor in the corner, one reading _McCormick Psychiatry._

He winced, cursed under his breath as another click echoed through the room.

"Dr. McCormick?" he choked out.

There was a laugh, a _woman's_ laugh.

 _Oh, no._

She stepped from the shadows, grin wide. "Sure," she said. "I'm glad you're awake."


	4. Chapter 4

Kate only allowed herself a moment to calm down. She blinked the tears from her eyes, gulped down sips of tea in a feeble attempt to soothe her aching stomach. Castle wrapped her in his arms for just a second, lips pressing to her head before he let her go.

He didn't promise it would all be okay. Neither did she, unwilling to make a promise she was no longer sure she could keep.

She squeezed his hand before dragging him from the room, into the bullpen, voice already booming.

"Okay, everybody, listen up."

The morning rush stalled, everyone coming to a halt at once, all eyes landing on her. Releasing Castle's hand, she clutched at her jacket instead, tried to still the quivering of her fingers. She swallowed back the bile rising in her throat as she walked over to the murder board.

Ryan and Esposito's case notes were scrawled across it. She tried not to let it get to her.

"From here on out," she told her team, "consider your orders changed."

Officers shifted, stepped further into her line of sight until the group was staring at her. Castle stepped closer until he was standing by her side, a pillar of strength, offering her support without saying a word.

"Detectives Ryan and Esposito are missing," she said, fighting to tune out the gasp that filled the room. "We have reason to believe it's connected to our latest case. From here on out, consider that your top priority until they're found."

She paused, waited while her team of officers rushed to gather information on the investigation. It was only when everyone began to turn away that she spoke again, pointing to the uniform who had informed her of Ryan and Esposito's absence.

"You," she said, "get me Dr. Calvin McCormick in interrogation one."

And she only waited long enough to see the officer nod before turning away, once again swallowing against the churn of nausea in her stomach.

* * *

She'd thrown up twice more, Castle's hand on her back and tears burning in her eyes, by the time the nausea had subsided enough for her to stalk into the interrogation room. Her husband followed her, still silent, still strong and comforting and calming the stuttering arrhythmia of her heart.

He held her chair back for her, waiting for her to sit down before sliding into his own seat.

Dr. McCormick sat before them, squirming in his seat, one hand massaging the back of his neck.

"What happened?" he asked instantly.

She didn't bother hesitating to answer.

"Two of my detectives have gone missing while investigating a lead on this case."

It was harsh, perhaps too harsh and laced with excess anger, but she couldn't bring herself to care. Even when Dr. McCormick's face blanched, body stilled, eyes went wide. His jaw fell open with a broken exhale before he seemed to remember to speak.

"I didn't do it!" he shouted. "I was here all night. You can ask that officer you had watching me back in that- that cell."

She sighed, hating the fact that she needed to speak the next words that tumbled from her lips. "I'm well aware of your alibi, Dr. McCormick."

He sank into his seat, sucking in a relieved breath. "So you don't think I did it anymore?"

"You are no longer as promising a suspect," she confirmed. "But you _are_ our most valuable source of information."

"But- How?"

Castle spoke next, voice thick, and she could hear him fighting to keep it from quivering as he explained. "Whoever did this was trying to frame you." He paused, lips twisting into a deeper frown. "Do you know anyone who may have wanted to hurt you this way?"

Dr. McCormick scowled in return, shoulders going tense with defensiveness. "No, you know what, I wasn't aware that I upset any serial killers recen-"

"Dr. McCormick," she warned.

He sank back in his seat once again, eyes falling closed. His hands, which had been clenched into fists, loosened at his sides and he breathed an angry exhale. "I'm sorry," said the doctor. "And I'm truly sorry your detectives are missing, but I don't know anything about this case, Captain Beckett, not beyond what's in the victims' psych evals."

It was genuine, far too much so. Had her shoulders sagging and anger dissipating.

He had an alibi for both murders and the boys' disappearance. The likelihood of his guilt was fading fast.

So…

"Okay," she conceded. "Then you're free to go, but you have to call me if you think of _anything_ that could be of value to my investigation."

Besides, maybe the tail she would stick on Dr. McCormick would lead them to their killer.

* * *

Castle wrapped her in his arms the moment she closed her office door. The team was refocused. Officers were combing through the victims' financial and phone records. Others were digging through Calvin McCormick's life for any indication of someone with motive to frame him. She had sent a team of detectives and CSU to the warehouse where the boys had gone missing, and she stared at the murder board for far too long afterward.

Jenny's voice, broken and desperate and crying for Kevin, echoed in her head. Memories of a perfectly peaceful family dinner, only the night before, played on repeat, weighing down her already aching heart.

They were her family. They were missing. She had to-

"We'll find them," whispered Castle, pressing his lips to the side of her head.

She didn't say a word, couldn't bring herself to agree when he sounded so unsure, couldn't argue and face the doubt clouding her mind. Her arms stayed at her sides, hands coming up just enough for her to grip at his shirt, to clutch the fabric in her fists just as she wanted to hold onto his - however shaky - confidence.

He waited a second, for a response that never came, before speaking again.

"I called Hayley, asked her to drop whatever case she was on and focus on this instead," he said.

Drawing from his arms, she stuttered a wordless breath.

"I know your job is to do this the legal way, but Kate, legal ways take time, time Ryan and Esposito might not have." He paused, hand drifting along the length of her back. "They're our family, and you said it yourself, all hands on deck, so-"

She silenced him, kissed him to quiet the cracked words of how the boys might not make it home.

"Okay," she breathed. "Of course. You're right. No matter what it takes, we have to find them."

They would find them.

* * *

Their captor came and went countless times, disappearing behind corners and closed doors only to reappear before them with that same wicked grin. Ryan watched, still bound to his chair, as she returned once more, planting herself in line with the beam of sunlight coming through the nearest window. He swallowed thickly at the pleasure so evident in her eyes.

In her hands, she clutched a file.

"What do you want with us?" asked Esposito.

She didn't bother with an answer, or even a glance in his direction. She simply opened the file, eyes scanning the pages too quickly for her to truly be reading.

Her eyes stayed locked on those pages even as she spoke.

"It's not you I want, but your boss, _Kate,_ " the word was sharp at the _K,_ cut at the _T,_ disgust leaching into her tone, "never seems to leave the building anymore. Neither does her husband, so for now, you two will have to do."

Her eyes were shining, alight with some bizarre combination of anger and satisfaction, when she looked back up.

"Don't worry," she said. "I'll get to _Kate_ eventually."

Ryan swallowed back his protests. Esposito did not.

"Beckett will have you locked up before you can lay a hand on her or Castle," he spat. "That, I promise you."

She glared at that, stood still for a moment before spurring back into action. Slow, methodical steps led her to be standing in front of Esposito, a single page from her file pinched between her fingers. She threw it to his feet, only waited a second to allow them an attempt at decoding the illegible print.

"I would be more careful if I were you," she told Esposito. "I know your biggest fear, and how to make it a reality."

Esposito refused to offer the nod she silently demanded, so she turned to Ryan instead.

"And yours." She grinned.

He tried to shift in his seat, back pressing hard against his chair as he tried to get away. But that only made her smile widen, a hand dropping to draw a lighter from the waistband of her pants.

She flicked it open. He swallowed.

"I guess I owe it to that fire for making it so easy."

The file fell to the ground, and Ryan was once again left staring at a single paper being pinched between her fingers. She waved it in front of him, allowed Ryan to see the block letters of his name printed across the top. Flickering firelight drifted over that very spot, lingering until the piece of paper shrank, crumpled, burned.

His eyes slammed shut, breath catching in his chest.

The sound of burning paper remained. Of the page hitting the floor. Her laugh. Her foot stomping.

"Don't worry," she said again.

Ryan forced his eyes open to see the fire extinguished, the lighter closed. Relief, however fleeting, welled in his chest.

Fire had once almost stolen him from his family, before he'd even had the chance to meet his little girl. It wouldn't happen again.

"We haven't reached that point in my plan yet," she added.

 _Yet._

* * *

The door to the P.I. office slammed closed behind Kate as Castle was already walking over to where Hayley sat at her desk.

"Anything?" he asked, so quickly the syllables bled together.

"Not yet," answered Hayley. "There are no cameras at the warehouse, so I'm combing the surrounding area for-"

"You have to find _something_ ," interrupted Castle. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, anger melding with the desperation in his tone.

Hayley nodded, promised that she wouldn't stop trying until Ryan and Esposito were safe, but Castle was already turning to face Beckett instead.

"We're missing something," he said. "What are we missing?"

She didn't answer, couldn't when she had no idea of what could lead them to their killer, to the boys.

The warehouse had offered no clues. The boys' phones couldn't be tracked. Traffic cameras showed _nothing_. They had one suspect, who was seemingly framed. Two victims with strange causes-

"Another victim," she blurted.

He looked up, blinking away the confusion as it was replaced with the subtle spark of budding ideas.

"Think about it," she continued. "Which killer goes from never having killed anyone, to kidnapping a married man, holding him hostage and killing him with a _snake,_ of all murder weapons?"

"No one."

"Exactly."

He nodded. "So, assuming this other victim follows the killer's MO, they would be someone who was recently arrested-"

"-had a psych eval," she picked up.

"Done by Dr. McCormick," he added.

"Was released-"

"-and killed a few days later-"

"-using their biggest fear," she concluded before pausing, lips pressed together to hold back any further, conjecture-born theories.

They didn't have time for crazy ideas, even Castle seemed well aware of that.

They had Ryan and Esposito to find. A victim to identify.

"We need access to McCormick's patient files," she told him, watching Castle nod his agreement.

Hayley pushed herself from her seat at that, her chair skittering across the floor as she spoke.

"And I know just how to get them."

* * *

"You're sure about this?" asked Castle for the umpteenth time, drawing another glare from Hayley. "Really, really sure, I mean."

She stilled her attempts to pick the lock on the door to the office of Dr. Ramos, one of Dr. McCormick's coworkers. "Would you be quiet before we get caught?" she hissed. "This door leads directly to Dr. Ramos' office. Since he's on vacation, it'll be empty, which means we can use it to access the hallway, and then the ar-"

His lips parted around a question the moment she halted her whispered explanation, but it only took a second for the door being pushed and Hayley's satisfied smirk to fill in the blanks.

Step one of their plan: complete.

Next: steps two, three, four, five…

"Couldn't we have come up with a simpler plan?" he asked.

She shushed him, glaring once again before leading him into Dr. Ramos' office.

He lingered by the door, keeping watch as Hayley rifled through desk drawers. She was quiet, sliding them open and shut, mumbling under her breath as she searched.

"Aha!" she breathed, a little louder, when she found her goal. Dr. Ramos' key card to the archive room.

He smiled. "Initiate step three."

Hayley rolled her eyes, stepping towards him and the door leading to the hallway. "Step four, Rick."

He was still trying to identify the first three steps when she reached past him, shoved the door open, and stepped into the blessedly empty hallway.

She led him through the building, whispering door numbers under her breath as she went. Without hesitation, she identified the archive room, swiping the key card and sighing in relief when it beeped to announce they were allowed entry.

But the archive room wasn't empty when they stepped inside.

"Dr. McCormick?" said Castle. "What are you doing here?"

"What am I doing here?" countered the doctor. "I work here. What are _you_ doing here?"


	5. Chapter 5

Beckett ignored Dr. McCormick's protests at once again being locked in the interrogation room from the moment she entered. Her hands clutched at the file of useless information, eyes locked on McCormick as she waited for Castle to sit down before following suit.

"My detectives are going through your files," she informed the shrink. "They'll find whatever you were looking for."

Dr. McCormick sighed, head tilting back against his chair. "I wasn't looking for anything," he argued. "Nothing bad, at least."

"So you were looking for something?" asked Castle. "What was it?"

Another sigh, a deep breath as the doctor shifted in his seat once again. He pressed his hands against the metal tabletop, leaning forward, open and honest.

"I knew from the crime scene photos that there was no way the killer escalated directly to murdering Antonio Chavez that way, so there must be another victim. I figured that if I went through my files, I might be able to find someone who fit."

She sucked in a breath, swallowed in a feeble attempt to disguise it.

That was exactly what her precinct was in the middle of doing.

"And?" she prompted.

"And I found someone. His name is Oliver Malone, and he was arrested for assault about three weeks ago," said Dr. McCormick. "A psych evaluation was ordered to assess the cause of his rage, and we learned he had a severe phobia of needles."

She nodded, silently urged the doctor to continue.

"He was found dead of a drug overdose about two and a half weeks ago...with multiple needle marks."

 _Oh_. That was promising. Castle seemed to think so, too, since he was already pushing himself from his seat, mumbling about how he was going to find Oliver Malone's file and have the team look into his death.

But he stopped before he could reach the interrogation room door, Dr. McCormick's voice echoing through the room.

"Wait."

"What?" she asked.

McCormick took a deep breath, as though preparing himself to answer. "There's one problem with Malone being a victim." He paused, eyes falling to his fidgeting hands. "I didn't do his psych evaluation."

* * *

She slapped the image onto the murder board, scrawled the cause and time of death beneath it in shaky handwriting.

"Victim number one, Oliver Malone," she told Castle.

"We're sure?"

She nodded. "I had Lanie look at the ME report and crime scene photos. The MO matches, death caused by the victim's biggest fear and she noticed pale ligature marks on his ankles and wrists. She's sure it's the same guy."

Castle swallowed at that, shoulders sagging with the deep breath he took. "So, Dr. McCormick-"

"Is no longer a suspect," she finished for him. Disappointment clouded his eye, at the words, and she forced herself to look away before it could worsen the ache in her chest.

A messy version of her handwriting wrote _alibi_ below McCormick's picture.

She could feel Castle staring at the back of her head, the board, the word as she wrote it.

"So we're back at square one," he murmured.

She turned back to him at that, reaching out to rest a hand on his elbow, ease the tension in his shoulders.

"No, babe, we're not," she said. "Actually, we _finally_ have another suspect."

His eyes went wide, bright and blue and filling with hesitant hope. He stared at her, glancing at the murder board only briefly, and shifted his arm until her arm fell to her side, the guise of professionalism returning.

"The doctor who did Malone's psych eval?"

She smiled, nodding her head. With her free hand, she reached past him to swipe a second image from Ryan's otherwise untouched desk. That one ended up on the murder board right next to the picture of Dr. McCormick.

"Dr. Angela Payne," she said.

"Well, with that last name…"

She rolled her eyes. "Not why she's a suspect, Castle," she reminded him. "Dr. Payne is a new employee. Her work is currently being supervised by McCormick, which is why he had access to Malone's file, _and_ she has access to all his files, including Chavez's and Burton's."

"So, are we going to pick her up?"

Despite the worry lingering in her chest, she smiled. "I already sent someone to bring her in."

* * *

Dr. Angela Payne was fairly young, for a shrink. Young and nervous, picking at her fingernails from the moment the interrogation room door had closed behind her. She stared at her hands, occasionally letting her gaze trace the walls, eye the security camera in a corner of the ceiling until finally giving in and yelling into the silence.

It was only then that he and Beckett slipped into the room, calming the doctor's shouting protests at being locked up.

"Three people are dead and two of my detectives are missing," said Beckett. "Your comfort is not my top priority."

Dr. Payne's eyes went wide, panicked. "D-dead? Three people are _dead_?" She paused, jaw going slack as realization seemed to dawn on her. "Is this about Dr. McCormick?"

"Not anymore," said Castle. "Not unless you made it about him."

"Me? How could I- You think _I_ did this?"

Beckett leaned over, brow hitched in question as Angela's attention shifted from Castle to her.

"Did you know Oliver Malone?" asked Beckett.

Dr. Payne frowned. "Yes," she said. "I- Dr. McCormick and I did his psych-"

"What about Antonio Chavez?"

She nodded. "Yes, but-"

"And Lora Burton?"

"Yes, her too, but I didn't _kill_ them," said Dr. Payne. "I knew them through work, saw each of them once, for their psych eval, and that's _it_."

Castle swallowed thickly, crossing his arms over his chest. "Then how would you explain the killer's knowledge of all three victims' psychological health, information you were privy to?"

"I don't know," answered Angela, voice growing louder. "But I didn't kill them. I would never kill anyone."

"Well then," said Beckett, "do you have an alibi for two nights ago, from eight through to the next day?"

Dr. Payne nodded, rushed the movement, stuttering her response. "O-of course I do," she said.

Castle took a deep breath, tried to calm his racing thoughts. But she couldn't have an alibi. She was their best lead, their _only_ lead.

"Two nights ago, I was on a double date with my boyfriend and our friends, and the next day I was at work."

"Is there any way I can confirm this?" asked Kate, her words suddenly laced with quiet disappointment.

"Yes. I-I have pictures." She reached down, tried to grab her phone only to be reminded that it had been set aside prior to her entry to the interrogation room. A uniform officer was the one to bring it in.

Dr. Payne unlocked the device, tapped the screen a few times before handing it over to Beckett.

It only took a glance for him to realize her alibi was confirmed.

His breath caught, burned as he sucked in a shallow, shaky breath. Anger welled, his hand slamming against the table as he pushed himself to stand.

He charged from interrogation, into the break room, slamming doors closed behind him as he went.

It only took Kate a few seconds to follow. He heard the door click shut, the rustle of blinds as she drew them closed, the click of her heels as she stepped towards him. Her hand landed on his elbow, the other smoothing down his back, calming his racing breaths.

"It'll be okay, Rick."

He wanted to believe her, but last time they'd dealt with a serial killer... it had turned into a four-year cat and mouse game that had culminated in his wife almost being killed.

Last time something had felt this big... they'd thought it was over until he and Kate were bleeding out on the kitchen floor, until he'd seen a man killed right in front of him.

But it would be different this time. It had to be.

It would be.

Right?

* * *

Castle's breathing was far more even when he came out of the bathroom, and relief unraveled in Kate's chest at the sight. He joined her in her office, offering a shaky smile as she reached over and handed him the coffee she'd made for him.

"Better?" she whispered.

He nodded. "Thank you."

There was a pause as he took a sip of his drink, as she took a moment to ensure that he was truly doing better. She was beyond worried about Ryan and Esposito, some of her best friends, who were trapped in the clutches of a serial killer. But she was worried about her husband, too.

Satisfied with his well-being, she nodded her head, stepped closer to him. "I've been thinking," she said, "what if we've been going about this all wrong?"

His brows furrowed. "How so?"

"We've been trying to identify the killer," she began, "but to find the boys, and hopefully whoever took them, we only really need to know where they're being held."

"Well, going based on the killer's identity is usually the best way to figure out where they hold their victims," he reminded her.

She tampered her smile, stepping even closer to her husband. "Or, based on the identity of who the killer wants us to believe is responsible."

"McCormick?"

"Think about it, Rick."

He nodded, and she watched the familiar sight of his features twisting with concentration, the budding light of understanding in his eyes.

"The true killer went so far as to place fingerprints on the body," he said. "He may have also chosen a lair that, if found, would also be linked to McCormick."

"Exactly." She smiled.

He mirrored it. "You're a genius."

"If it works," she reminded him.

But her heart was already thundering with the same hope that shone brightly in his eyes.

* * *

The room smelled of smoke, just a subtle, lingering odor that had memories of far worse flames flashing to the forefront of his mind.

The explosion. The crackling. The _heat._ The smoke. Burning lungs. Spinning head. Fading world. And-

"Do you know the key to hurting someone?" asked their captor, looking up from the fire she had just put out, far too close to Ryan's feet. "You have to gradually intensify the cause of their pain. A taller building, a bigger needle, more contact with a snake, more time underwater." She paused, waited for him to tear his eyes open and stare at the flicker of the lighter. "A bigger fire."

Ryan groaned at the mental image. Beside him, Esposito remained silent, having long since given up on engaging with their captor.

It didn't keep her from talking to him, though.

"You know what the best part about this is?" she asked Espo. "You guys make it so easy to make you both face your biggest fears at the same time."

She fell silent, the click of her heels echoing loud as she stepped around them. One elbow landed on each of their chairs when she leaned over, whispered to them both.

"Kevin here is scared of fire, which is great, dangerous, _deadly_." Her head turned to the left, smile widening. "Which is great for upsetting you, Javier." She paused. "Tell me, how empty does your life have to be, given that your biggest fear is failing to return _him_ to his family?"

Silence fell. Esposito managed to swallow back any response he may have had. Ryan, on the other hand, did not.

"Javi," he breathed, but his partner silenced whatever _tell me it isn't true_ or _thank you_ that was welling in Ryan's chest with a slight shake of his head.

Besides, their captor was already walking away, taunting them further as she disappeared behind the corner.

"I think," she said, "it's now time you two graduate from measly pieces of paper being burned."


	6. Chapter 6

They didn't bother wasting the time it would take to bring Dr. McCormick back to the precinct, didn't want to spend precious minutes _waiting_ when a serial killer was still holding their friends, their _family_ hostage. So Castle paced back and forth in her office, twisting his hands in fearful anticipation as she made the phone call.

She counted the rings, hyper-aware of each passing second since finding Ryan and Esposito, saving them, became so much more imminent.

 _Potentially_ imminent.

"Dr. McCormick's office," came the voice over the phone, and she released the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.

"Dr. McCormick, it's Captain Beckett," she spoke, her voice shaking. "We have one last question for you, with regard to the investigation."

"Okay," he said, the word dragged out. "Do you need me to return to the precinct?"

"No. No, it's okay. You can answer over the phone." She paused, offered him only a second to muster a response before continuing. "We think whoever is behind this may be using a location linked to you to hold their victims. That way, since they're framing you, the murders would be linked to you instead of them."

She fell silent again, allowed Dr. McCormick the time to hum his agreement with the theory before rushing to continue.

"So we need to know if you or someone close to you owns property secluded and empty enough to hold people hostage in."

Her chest ached when she sucked in a breath, held it as she waited for his answer, for her hope to be shattered, or-

"Actually, I do."

And she could breathe again.

"I'm opening my own practice, but it's still in the construction stages," continued Dr. McCormick. "But work has been on hold for the past month due to issues with the permit. And the entire place is soundproof."

 _Oh._ Oh, that was promising. It could work. They could find the boys.

They could-

"Okay," she choked out. "Okay. Can I get the address?"

She scribbled it down once, twice. Handed the first copy to Castle so he could text Hayley, and slapped the second copy down on Karpowski's desk with instructions to get a SWAT team there as soon as possible.

And then she rushed from the precinct to save the boys.

* * *

Hayley was already at the scene when Castle and Beckett arrived. She was standing next to her car, loading her gun, when Kate drew her own car to a stop, parked it right outside the building.

She almost jumped out, hand clutching the gun at her hip, but Castle stopped her before she could.

"You have to stay in the car, Kate," he told her.

Her lips parted, protest ready to tumble from her lips, but he couldn't bear to hear them, couldn't stand to deny her if she shared all the reasons he shouldn't.

"Please, Kate," he begged. "This isn't just about you anymore and I can't- I just... just please wait a few minutes, at least until SWAT gets here, and then you can follow them in, but I can't... I can't have anything happen to you, either of-"

She stopped him with a kiss, hard and fast with her fists clutched in the fabric of his shirt. Tears were brimming in her eyes when she pulled away, failed to let him go.

"I'll stay," she conceded. "But please be careful."

He nodded. "Always."

It made her smile, had her leaning over to press a second quick kiss to his lips. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

Her hands fell from his shirt when he pulled away, stumbling from the car, already strapping on his WRITER vest before fumbling with the gun Kate had planted in his hand. He clutched at it as he made his way over to where Hayley was leaning against the wall by the door.

"She's not coming in?" asked Hayley, motioning to where Beckett was still in the car.

"Not today," he answered.

Hayley's brow hitched in question, but she didn't ask, didn't voice the suspicions he was sure were brewing. She simply said "Okay then," and shoved the door open, leading him into the building.

She went one way, he darted down the opposite hallway. Doors lined his either side, leading to small rooms which would one day see files, offices, many therapy sessions. He opened each one, gun poised in his right hand as he ensured each one was empty.

No Ryan. No Esposito. No killer. Moving on.

The smell of smoke was the first thing he noticed as he stepped closer, just strong enough to have him scratching at his nose, his heart pounding against his ribs in panic. His grip on the gun tightened, eyes falling closed briefly before he pushed forward, forward, forward…

To the last door, with a plate reading _Dr. Calvin McCormick_ on it.

He pushed it open.

The sign came into view right away, the words _McCormick Psychiatry_ staring back at him. Then it was planks of wood, layers upon layers of sawdust.

A chair. _Esposito._ Another chair. _Ryan._

And the killer.

"N.Y.P.D. put your hands up!" he shouted, voice shaking, knees weak under his weight.

Ryan and Esposito stared at him. Smoke swirled in the air. The killer drew a gun from her waistband, aimed it right at his chest.

His breath hitched. Heart stopped. Body went numb.

 _The shot. The pain. The blood._

" _I told Mason you would figure it out."_

 _Kate. His name._ Kate.

The boys were shouting his name, sound echoing off the walls and muted in his ears. Spinning in his head like the memories, the world, the-

" _I'm sorry, Rick, but how am I going to enjoy my retirement with you and the missus hunting me?"_

" _Castle!"_

 _Kate. Kate._ Kate.

The killer talking. Taunting. Something about guns and PTSD and Kate and-

 _Her body hitting the floor. Her groans of agony._

 _Aching. Burning. Stabbing pain._

 _Moving. Crawling for her. To her. To her hand in his._

 _I love you. He couldn't say it. The world spinning, blurring, darkening, darkening, darken-_

 _And nothing._

He couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. Couldn't move.

* * *

Castle was right there. _Right there_. Staring and unmoving and Ryan did all he could do, shouted his name to try and get his friend to snap out of it.

But their captor was talking too, taunting with that oh so familiar evil grin.

"So, getting shot really does mess you up, doesn't it?" she said. "Like husband, like wife, huh? PTSD must run in the family- first _Kate_ , now you. Good to know."

She paused, turned to face Ryan and Esposito before looking back at a still frozen Castle.

"Too bad it'll keep you from saving your friends."

Castle still didn't react. But Hayley did, the additional noises of heavy footsteps starting to fill the building.

SWAT. More hope.

Ryan and Esposito watched Hayley shove Castle to the side, their friend shaken, stumbling, dropping his gun. Hayley stepped past him, into the room, gun poised, aimed, fired.

Glass shattered. No blood was shed.

SWAT arrived, ran past them all, around the corner, to the back door their captor had taken. Rifles locked and loaded. Footsteps impossibly loud.

Hayley pulled a knife from her belt, and Castle couldn't even look at them as she cut the rope from around their ankles and wrists.

And then a SWAT officer shouted-

"We lost her!"

-and tampered the joyous relief of the moment.

She was gone.

But they were safe.

* * *

Ryan sank into the couch in Beckett's office, the giving cushion such a stark contrast to the chair to which he'd been strapped for too many long hours. Esposito stayed standing, as though he was scared to sit after the day they'd had, massaging the bruises on his wrists.

And Castle lingered in the corner, eyes downcast, locked on a picture of the four of them that sat on Beckett's desk.

Beckett slapped the phone onto its receiver, dropping into her desk chair. The smile she offered was half-hearted in the comfort it offered, but there all the same.

"The case is officially in the hands of the 54th," she told them. "Lanie still doesn't know why the fingerprints were there, but her best guess is that they were planted. And we still don't have an ID on the killer."

Her gaze dropped to the file of evidence, which Castle could see even from across the room. He knew the composite sketch, the product of his and Espo's descriptions, sat atop the pile of papers. The image, almost scary in its likeness, of the killer turned captor turned fugitive.

"Hopefully they'll be able to track her down before she can harm anyone else," she whispered.

Ryan swallowed, nodding his head. "I hope so, too," he mumbled. "Especially…"

"Especially?"

Esposito sighed, dropping his weight to the couch's armrest. "Especially," he picked up for Ryan, "because her next target is you."

The room stilled, silenced. Castle finally looked up, eyes wide with worry, the look on his face mirrored by Beckett.

"Kate?" he breathed.

"Me?"

The boys nodded, Ryan clutching at the cushion beneath him as he rushed to explain. "She said you were her target, but you and Castle don't leave the precinct enough for her to get to you, so she had to settle for us." The words bled together, far too rushed, quieting when worry etched across Beckett's face.

"But she's in the wind now," said Esposito, "so I'm sure you'll be fine."

Beckett's face was still ghostly pale, eyes too wide when she nodded, knowing, just like the rest of them, everyone else that Esposito was trying to convince himself as much as he was trying to comfort her.

"Yeah," she breathed. "I'll be fine." She paused, eyes falling closed only to open again as a smile cracked across her face. "And I'm really glad you guys are okay."

* * *

Esposito followed Ryan to his door, staring at the apartment number nailed to the wood. The sight was all too familiar, the feeling strangely foreign.

How many times had they narrowly escaped death? Never had it felt quite like _that_.

Ryan reached for the doorknob, but paused before he pushed into his home. He turned back towards the hallway, his partner.

"Your biggest fear is really that you won't be able to get me home?" he asked.

Esposito looked away, stared at the floor to hide the sincerity surely shining in his eyes.

They didn't do this, especially not in hallways right before Ryan was to reunite with his family.

So, instead of offering an honest response, he tried to lighten the mood. "Yours is fire?"

Ryan chuckled, the sound barely audible, lost in the silence of the hallway. He reached over, slapped Esposito on the shoulder lightly in quiet gratitude.

"Thanks, bro," was all he said.

And then he turned away, pushed the door to his home open.

Noise erupted immediately. Jenny, with baby Nicholas in her arms, ran to her husband, mumbling questions of _are you okay?_ as Ryan held her close.

And Sarah Grace, she came running from the living room, eyeing her parents briefly before jumping into Esposito's arms instead.

"Uncle Javi!"

He cradled her against his chest, pressed kisses to her head as she asked about his and _daddy's_ latest adventure.

How empty was his life, their captor had asked.

It wasn't. Not at all.

* * *

"Castle?"

The image returned. Them in their kitchen. Caleb appearing out of nowhere. The gunshot. The pain. Her voice. More gunshots. More pain.

Their temporary death.

"Rick?" she said this time, stepping towards him. Her hand landed on his shoulder, drifted so she could play with the hairs at his nape. "Are you going to tell me what happened?"

He blinked away the memory, focused on her instead. "Huh?"

"When you went in to save the boys," she explained. "You couldn't look at them afterward."

His shoulders sagged at that, the memories of how he had... had failed them returning.

"Remember your first case back after your shooting? When the guy pointed his gun at you and you... you-"

Her hand curled tighter at his nape. "I remember."

He sighed. "Yeah, well, I... I did it, too," he said. "I _froze,_ Kate, and I couldn't... couldn't save them. I couldn't even _move_."

Silence fell, heavy for a moment until her free hand landed on his cheek, drew his gaze to hers.

"Rick, I _promise_ you that the boys won't blame you for that. They don't. Trust me, they get it," she told him, eyes wide and begging him to believe her.

He nodded. Hesitated, but nodded.

She pressed herself closer to him, offered a shaky smile. "But maybe you should book an appointment with Dr. Burke," she suggested. "Just... to help." She paused. "I promise, it helps."

Protests welled in his chest, insistence that he was strong enough to handle, and overcome, memories on his own. But Kate, _oh Kate_ , had always been stronger than he'd ever be, and she'd needed it. It had helped her.

So, he sank into her arms, pressing his lips to the top of her head.

"Okay."

And then he held her until she pulled away, led him to bed to comfort him with brushes of her lips to his and the soothing weight of her body curled up against his side. Until he fell asleep with his wife in his arms and images of Ryan and Esposito having never been saved flashing in his mind.

* * *

He booked the appointment the next morning, Kate sitting across from him at the kitchen island, offering smiles of encouragement. He found himself mirroring them.

Because he couldn't see the woman on the other end of the line grinning. Didn't see slashes of green highlighter staining words in his file.

 _Shooting. PTSD. Losing Kate._

His biggest fear.

* * *

 _Episode beta work by amtepe2 and acertainzest_

 _Castle Season 9 is produced by Team Planet and the writing team of Castle Season 9_ _. Executive Producer is_ _encantadaa._

 _For a full list of season 9 authors, please look at our ffnet profile._

 _Twitter: castleseason9_

 _Tumblr: castleseason9 dot tumblr dot com_

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